


chocolate

by doctormissy



Series: 9 Days Christmas Writing Challenge [21]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 9 Days Christmas Writing Challenge, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Christmas, First Meetings, Future Fic, Hot Chocolate, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 01:05:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13155906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctormissy/pseuds/doctormissy
Summary: Draco accidentally bumps into a man on the street and spills hot chocolate on him. The man is Harry Potter.





	chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for a prompt "draco spills hot chocolate on harry". i didn't mean to make it a muggle au, but it just kind of happened. enjoy :)

Draco Malfoy made his way through the crowd as quickly as he could with two bags of presents in one hand and a cup of hot chocolate in another. People gave him accusing looks and cursed when he bumped into them, but he paid the morons no mind.

He was so late. Father will be angry. No one wanted to be the one to make the great Lucius Malfoy angry, especially not the day before Christmas Eve; the day when the company gave out copious bonuses to its best employers but also sacked the sloppy and tardy ones. Little did it matter he was the owner’s son and heir.

The Christmas frenzy in London was horrible. Gaping tourists and shopping Londoners alike clogged the streets, the bridges, and the restaurants and made it almost impossible for Draco to return from his extended lunch break on time. His destination was on the other bank of the Thames, and the situation on Tower Bridge was worse than that at the markets where he bought his chocolate. He sighed and continued to shoulder his way across the river.

He walked round a group of Japanese tourists with selfie sticks. But there was a woman on a bike. She nearly knocked him down. He cursed under his breath and turned round to look at the bunch of slow, mindless foreigners who, apparently, forgot they didn’t own the bridge. His glance was murderous.

He sipped at his chocolate crossly when he refocused on the crowded path before him––oh shit.

He had completely missed the man walking toward him. The lid fell off the paper cup, and the cup’s contents spilt all over the stranger’s brown coat and red-and-green scarf. He met the absent-minded man with a bump. ‘Bloody hell, man! Watch where you’re going!’ Draco shouted at him. A few heads turned their way.

‘I’m sorry, but you were the one who didn’t watch where he was going,’ the man replied. Draco looked at him. He was as tall as he was, thin, brown-haired. A day’s stubble covered his sharp jaw, and he wore large round spectacles on his nose, which hid radiant green eyes behind them. He was, by all means, very handsome.

Draco realised he wasn’t just looking. He was outright staring. ‘And you’ve ruined my coat,’ the man finished.

‘I’m sorry, Mr––’ he began.

The man discarded his stained scarf. He answered with a simple, ‘Potter.’

‘––Mr Potter. I can pay for dry-cleaning your coat, but now I’m in a hurry. Hold this,’ Draco said, pushing the more or less empty cup into Potter’s hands. He opened his suitcase and pulled out a notepad and a Parker pen. He quickly scribbled a few words on it and tore the piece of paper out. He handed it to him. ‘Go to this dry cleaner’s and say it’s on Mr Malfoy. They’ll know.’ He took the cup from him and drained the rest of the chocolate. ‘Thank you. Sorry again.’

Potter stared at the note. ‘No, it was––I should buy you a fresh cup of that,’ he offered. The coat’s colour was close to that of hot chocolate, so the stain wasn’t that obvious to the eyes. Draco felt his cheeks flush and prayed it wasn’t more obvious.

He continued walking and threw the cup into the nearest bin. He pocketed the notepad. Potter followed. ‘Thanks, but that’s not necessary. It was just hot chocolate,’ he told him.

Potter _couldn’t_ see him blush. That would be utmost embarrassing. He wanted to ask about his first name, but that would be embarrassing too.

‘It smelled delicious.’

‘It was,’ Draco smiled shortly and nervously. ‘If you’ll excuse me––’

Potter suddenly blurted, ‘Give me that.’ His eyes pointed at the pocket, into which he put the notepad with the pen. He took them out with a raised eyebrow. The bags bumped against his leg with every step.

He scribbled something on the first page and handed it back. A number and the initials H. P.

H. Henry? Harry? Hugh? Damn, he should stop thinking about that.

‘I’m getting you that chocolate,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘Mr Malfoy.’

They were almost on the other side of the bridge. Draco had to say something. ‘Draco,’ he breathed. ‘My name.’

‘Right. See you around, Draco.’ He turned to walk the other direction with a smile. Draco wondered where was he going––and then he stopped. ‘Wait,’ he said, ‘Draco Malfoy? Lucius Malfoy’s son?’

‘That’s me,’ he answered. His father’s company’s building stood right there in everyone’s eyes, the name Malfoy Industrials bright at the top of the glass skyscraper. ‘See you around, Potter.’

God, he was in such trouble.


End file.
